


beautiful, beautiful night right now.

by phosphorous



Series: Haikyuu One-shot Collection | Multiple Universes [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Musicians, Band AU If You Read Between The Lines, Bassist!Hanamaki Takahiro, First Meetings, Found Family, Gen, Hanamaki Plays Harmonica, M/M, Many Sad Moon Metaphors, Pre-Relationship, Violinist!Matsukawa Issei, With a Microscope, because I said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phosphorous/pseuds/phosphorous
Summary: Issei meets Hanamaki Takahiro on a rainy, bleary Tuesday night when he’s walking home from the store after Oikawa-san sent him out on an errand and got distracted by the light-haired boy sitting outside the gates of his home. He does not fall in love at first sight. Instead, he gives him a slow, barely noticeable once-over, and asks him why he’s playing a harmonica rendition of Hong Jin-young’s Heartbreak on his doorstep.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Implied Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru - Relationship
Series: Haikyuu One-shot Collection | Multiple Universes [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579000
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	beautiful, beautiful night right now.

**0000**

Issei is fourteen years old and sitting by the window of a hospital room when he comes to the conclusion that the moon is the saddest being in the entire universe. 

He isn’t sure if he’s remembering it correctly, but the moon is said to have been formed when a space asteroid the size of Mars collided with the surface of the earth. It caused dust particles and pieces of rock to be lifted off the earth, and the velocity of collision caused them to move out of the earth’s orbit and into space. Then gravity came into play, and the bits and pieces that had once been earth were pulled together, and they became the moon. In theory, the moon was just a sad piece of the earth that hadn’t been strong enough to withstand Theia. It has no value on its own.

The moon borrows from the sun. Issei thinks that the moon might be less lonely if it had a purpose of its own, if it could create its own light to cast its silvery glow on the surface of the earth, but it’s even lonelier the way it is. The sun’s rays don’t intend to hit the moon -- they just do, and the sad, lonely little moon rotating around the earth gets caught in the crossfire. It’s almost like the rest of the universe had sympathy on the moon and granted it its stolen light. 

Other planets have a multitude of moons. Earth only has one, and despite the blue sky melting into soft, white clouds and sunshine so bright that it might as well as be a flame under an open palm, it never quite leaves, like a child seeking approval from his negligent parents, like the lonely boy who sits on the swings and watches all the other children his age bond together over a game of catch while he’s left all alone. 

The moon shifts through the clouds at a leisurely pace. His mother used to say that the clouds in the sky seemed to move at different speeds because God was shifting the earth in His hand like Issei did with his snowglobe when he was bored. The moon dips in and out of focus, a crooked crescent light amidst an otherwise dull, almost starless night, and Issei wonders if it’s lonely up there.

When the moon looks down at him through a cloud, Issei can’t tell if it’s smiling or not, or whether it wants company or wants to be left alone, but he lets his eyes flutter shut, inhales softly, and sings the song his mother used to sing to his father when they weren’t fighting. It sounds different in his voice, a little less like a blooming flower and a little more like a broken record.

The moon watches Issei sing, alone and sad as it’s always been. 

Alone and sad as he’s always been, Issei doesn’t look back.

**0001**

The new house is nice.

It’s in the nicer part of Miyagi, with a lot of sunshine and potted plants and parks. Issei sees a few dogs in a park nearby, all of them chasing each other and barking happily into the wind. He’d always wanted a pet when he was younger. There are cats curled up on stone stairwells, children playing in the dirt with bug catching nets and soccer balls. It’s pleasant. The air smells like bed roses and grass.

“This is it,” Sawamura-san says, gesturing towards the gate the car stopped in front of. The front gate is painted an odd shade of pastel blue, and the roses in front of the potted plants seem to be crushed. “Oikawa-san has a lovely home. I think you’ll like it here, kid.”

Sawamura-san is a whole head shorter than him at thirty eight whereas he’s gotten into the habit of slouching so no one will notice him in crowds at sixteen, but she still calls him  _ kid  _ like he’s still the snot-nosed brat who’d cried the first night he’d stayed at the orphanage. She has a son his age, and Daichi is also as tall as Issei is, and yet, he knows for a fact that she calls him  _ kid  _ too. 

“It’s nice,” Issei says, straightening his shoulders so he’s slouching less. He’s only met Oikawa-san and her husband maybe three times, but he wants to make a good impression on them. 

“They have a son your age.” Sawamura-san says, pushing the gate open and leading him in. There’s a stone pathway to their house, and there are flowers of different colors planted along the sides leading to the house. Issei makes a mental note to bring it up if the conversation fails to make a good impression. “Try and make friends with him, Issei. It might be good for you.”

Issei’s good with music sheets and the out of tune piano in the orphanage living room and the violin he doesn’t open unless he feels like it and the guitar that has plucked the soft skin of the tips of his fingers until they turned to calluses. He’s good with video games and small talk and pancakes for Kunimi on his birthday and making paper flowers. He’s not good with people.

“I’ll try.” He replies. It’s the right thing to say, because the corner of Sawamura-san’s lips curl up into a soft, barely there smile as she raises her fist to knock on the door.

It’s Oikawa-san who opens the door, and the first thing Issei notices is that she’s wearing a dress in blue that’s identical to the color of the front gate. The second thing he notices is that she’s smiling at him, and that her eyes are incredibly warm as she does so, like a pot of molten caramel over a stovetop.

He doesn’t remember being nervous, but the moment she laughs at something Sawamura-san said while they settle into a couch and she hands out dainty cups of tea and he realizes that this is actually happening, his heart speeds up just a little, and he dares to hope.

“ … and until we can sort out the second room, you’ll be fine sharing with Tooru, won’t you, Matsukawa-kun?” Oikawa-san is saying, and Issei realizes, with a start, that she’s talking to him. 

“I don’t mind.” He doesn’t know who Tooru is. From context, he guesses it must be her son.

Sawamura-san leaves maybe after ten minutes, insisting that she has work matters to attend to. Before she leaves, she gathers her briefcase and coat in one hand and uses the other to ruffle the mess of hair atop Issei’s head, and reminds him to call her from time to time. It’s her way of saying that she’d miss him, and that she hopes that he’ll be happy from now on.

Hope is a heavy thing. Issei isn’t equipped to handle heavy things, but he wants to try.

“Tooru is upstairs right now.” Oikawa-san says. She takes the cup left by Sawamura-san and places it on a tray. “Once you finish your tea, I’ll introduce you boys. He’s a little loud, but I think you’ll like him, Matsukawa-kun.”

There’s a vase full of carnations on the coffee table when Issei places his empty cup down. He wonders if Oikawa-san knew they were his favorites, or if she’d just guessed.

She leads him to a door on the first floor of the house. It’s covered with a series of biohazard signs, pictures of stars and scrawled out drawings. One of them, held down by a magnet shaped like a UFO, has a drawing of a dinosaur with the words,  _ stay out of here, Iwa-chan !!! _ on it. 

It’s nice. Like someone had lived around these walls and these doors and hadn’t been afraid to leave their mark.

Issei isn’t sure what to expect when Oikawa-san tentatively knocks and slides the door open.

The boy on the floor is leaning against his bed, a pair of headphones over his ears, a guitar propped upright on his lap with a series of wires running to the speaker and then back to him. Around him, scrunched up papers with scribbled notes are arranged like a traditional fan. The window behind him is wide open, and the afternoon sunlight spills into the room and lights up the boy’s skin. His eyes are Oikawa-san’s, and his hair is the same color as her. 

He looks up when the shadow of the door falls on his papers, seems to realize that his mother is not alone, and slowly, but steadily smiles. It’s even brighter than the sun outside. 

“Ah!” He says, struggling to his feet. He’s wearing a long sleeved shirt with an obscure graphic of a pirate crossed over with an alien on it, and his sweatpants have a strawberry jam stain on the knee. “You must be Matsukawa! Sorry I didn’t get to greet you, my mother was worried about me taking the stairs since I’m still technically supposed to be on crutches.”

“Uh,” Issei says, eloquently. Oikawa-san stifles a giggle.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Oikawa Tooru says, grabbing onto his crutches and pulling himself up. He extends a hand out. His hands are huge and calloused, but when Issei shakes his hand, curiously, the flat part of his palm is rough too, which is unlike a guitarist. Almost curiously, Oikawa tilts his head at Issei. “You aren’t much of a talker, are you, Mattsun?”

Mattsun. A nickname, and they haven’t known each other for an hour yet.

“Not really.” Issei says. He doesn’t hate the nickname, and it’s nice to not be called Matsukawa by everyone around him.

“That’s okay.” Oikawa grins. The way he’s smiling makes Issei feel like he’s back at the front of the gate looking at the crushed roses again. “I can talk enough for both of us, I think.”

A heartbeat passes and no one speaks. 

The corner of Issei’s lips curl up into a slight smile. Oikawa lets go of his hand and asks him  to sit in the chair by his bed while they wait for Issei’s suitcases to arrive. Silently, Issei follows him into the sunlight.

**0002**

Issei meets Hanamaki Takahiro on a rainy, bleary Tuesday night when he’s walking home from the store after Oikawa-san sent him out on an errand and got distracted by the light-haired boy sitting outside the gates of his home. He does not fall in love at first sight. Instead, he gives him a slow, barely noticeable once-over, and asks him why he’s playing a harmonica rendition of Hong Jin-young’s  _ Heartbreak  _ on his doorstep.

Hanamaki Takahiro holds the harmonica the same way Issei’s father used to hold his cigarette lighter, like it’s an extension of his own limb, and he blinks absentmindedly when he realizes that  _ he’s  _ the one Issei is talking to. He has hair that’s so light that it might as well as be the color of the strawberry milk Oikawa is addicted to, and his eyes glint with the reflection of the street lamp when he looks back at Issei. 

He tilts his head. 

“You’re Oikawa’s brother.” He finally says, and his voice sounds like the first note that rings after the initial pluck of a violin string in an empty room. “Matsukawa something, right?”

He and Oikawa aren’t  _ brothers _ . Their parents were friends, and when Issei’s parents died and Issei ended up in the foster care system, Oikawa’s parents took him in. If anything, Issei is something of a charity case. 

“Issei,” he supplies. It’s raining, just a little, but the small roof over the gate shields him, somewhat. He’s still holding the plastic bag containing the spring onions Oikawa-san sent him to get, and he wonders if the other boy couldn’t feel the cold around him. “My name is Issei.”

The moon shifts from behind the clouds, and casts its stolen light against the side of the other boy’s face. He’s still looking at Issei, and Issei looks back.

“Nice to meet you.” He finally says. The corner of his lips lift up into a soft, genuine smile, and the moonlight falls into his eyes in unending rays. “I’m Hanamaki, Oikawa’s friend. Think you could take me to see him, Matsukawa-kun?”

He could have gone in on his own. Issei, figuring that he had his own reasons, opens the gate, and leads the boy in. It’s only then that he notices that Hanamaki is carrying a bass guitar case with him, and that the only reason he’d been standing in the rain is because he’d chosen to put his bass under the roof.

“I’m back!” Issei calls out, as he takes his shoes off in the front of the house and changes into his house shoes. There’s a rustle of activity, the sound of Takeru seemingly slamming his blocks on the floor and Oikawa reaching for his crutches. Hanamaki changes into a pair of spare house shoes too, and Issei adds, “I brought a friend of Oikawa’s!”

Oikawa cheers. “Is it Iwa-chan?”

Hanamaki, like he’s used to it, snorts. “No, it’s not Iwaizumi. It’s just dear old me, dumbass.” 

Iwaizumi is the neighbor’s son, who’s in all the photographs on the mantle and the staircase. The oldest goes all the way back to when Oikawa was four and they’re both glaring at each other sandbox of the park Issei always goes when it’s his turn to walk the dog, and the most recent is one where they’re both standing outside Kita-Ichi in their graduation gowns, one of Iwaizumi’s arms thrown over Oikawa’s shoulders and another holding up a diploma and Oikawa grinning from ear to ear while throwing up a peace sign. Issei hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting the boy yet, because he’s on vacation, but he’s told that he’s a delight.

“Boo, I like Iwa-chan more.” Oikawa says. When Issei hands off the spring onions to Oikawa-san and turns back, Hanamaki is already brushing the rain out of his hair and sitting on the ground next to Oikawa. He wonders if he should sit with them, or if he’s better off heading upstairs.

Hanamaki makes the choice for him. His eyes seem to find Issei’s amidst the chaos that’s Takeru with blocks and Oikawa antagonizing him, and tilts his head to the beanbag across from him, a lazy smile stretching across his lips. Oddly, it doesn’t drive Issei to rushing upstairs, and doesn’t make him want to leave, doesn’t make him want to hide. For a change, he feels excited about meeting a new person.

“Sit with us.” Hanamaki says. Issei looks at Oikawa, and Oikawa positively  _ beams  _ at the suggestion, so he does as he’s told.

Hanamaki’s harmonica is still clutched in his left hand. When he sees Issei looking, he twists his fingers around it, and grins a little.

Everything about him reminds Issei of the moon, but he doesn’t look sad. He looks like the waning moon early in the month, its edges blurring into the night sky, and Issei thinks, maybe, the moon doesn’t have to be lonely all the time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I might have posted this before when I was sleep addled and then deleted it again, but I thought I'd post it again since I've always wanted to write matsuhana. Thank you for reading, everyone! :DD
> 
> twt: odasakusa


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